Saturday, June 27, 2015
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Another stalker-free visit to the cigar store. No one in sight in the parking lot, no horn toots, no assholes hovering on the sidewalk. They have a very slow learning curve, but it appears that they have finally realized that if they fuck with this crazy old man, they will die a violent death. I have had ENOUGH! THIS IS WAR!
Saturday, June 20, 2015
It's stalker Saturday. I just went to Walmart and bought some beer and extra minutes for my cheap cell phone. I parked way out from the storefront and left the engine running and the air conditioning going for my good dog. It is hot a Hell in Central Florida in June, and I can't leave her in the truck without AC. So I take the chance that no one will steal my truck. She would tear his arm off if he tried to enter, anyway. She is very protective.
No stalkers in sight. I was well armed and hypervigilent, as usual. The parking lot was full. The rednecks are out in droves, and Walmart is the only game left in this shithole town.
So I collected my beer and the minutes card for my phone, and checked out. I left the store. No horn toots. No fundamentalists stalking me in the store. Perhaps my message has gotten out. Stalk me and I will kill you, without regard for the consequences. I am fearless. Stalk me and die. I could care less about what happens to me in the aftermath. Killing one of you would give me great satisfaction.
So take note, fellow TI's. Guns are the answer, accompanied by a totally fearless attitude. If they fear us, as they do me, they will back off. Stalking us to them isn't worth their useless lives. They believe me. They'd damned well better. If stalked, I will fire for effect. For all you non-military types, that means shoot to kill.
No stalkers in sight. I was well armed and hypervigilent, as usual. The parking lot was full. The rednecks are out in droves, and Walmart is the only game left in this shithole town.
So I collected my beer and the minutes card for my phone, and checked out. I left the store. No horn toots. No fundamentalists stalking me in the store. Perhaps my message has gotten out. Stalk me and I will kill you, without regard for the consequences. I am fearless. Stalk me and die. I could care less about what happens to me in the aftermath. Killing one of you would give me great satisfaction.
So take note, fellow TI's. Guns are the answer, accompanied by a totally fearless attitude. If they fear us, as they do me, they will back off. Stalking us to them isn't worth their useless lives. They believe me. They'd damned well better. If stalked, I will fire for effect. For all you non-military types, that means shoot to kill.
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
I have made a decision. I am tired of getting harassed by stalkers hiding behind my privacy fence. So take note, assholes. No more single warning shots into the dirt. The next time you show up, you'll get at least a half a magazine of 5.56's from my AR 15. No more Mr. Nice Guy. Next time it happens, I will fire for effect. Hell, who knows? I may dump a full 30 round mag into you. I will shred your pathetic asses. At 30 feet, how can I miss? You have been warned. You are on notice. No mercy.
I have a so-called privacy fence in my back yard. On three separate occasions within the past year, as recently as an hour ago, prowlers have lurked. I have fired warning shots at them, into the ground.
There is a major highway a hundred yards behind my house, and on the other side, trailer parks filled with white trash and which are crime riddled. Maybe one sought a softer target this morning, or maybe it was a perp. Whatever the case, he got a hot round from my 357 Sig in his general direction. My dog was in the yard, going nuts. So I fired a shot to discourage him. I must be very careful to ensure that my rounds don't hit in the area of the highway, but I am an expert shot, so I won't make that mistake. I pick the angle and fire. I had one only last week, and now they're back. If I have to, I will fire my AR 15 into the fence and riddle them with 62 grain green tips. That will totally fuck up their day.
Perps, do not fuck with me. This old man will happily kill you.
There is a major highway a hundred yards behind my house, and on the other side, trailer parks filled with white trash and which are crime riddled. Maybe one sought a softer target this morning, or maybe it was a perp. Whatever the case, he got a hot round from my 357 Sig in his general direction. My dog was in the yard, going nuts. So I fired a shot to discourage him. I must be very careful to ensure that my rounds don't hit in the area of the highway, but I am an expert shot, so I won't make that mistake. I pick the angle and fire. I had one only last week, and now they're back. If I have to, I will fire my AR 15 into the fence and riddle them with 62 grain green tips. That will totally fuck up their day.
Perps, do not fuck with me. This old man will happily kill you.
Monday, June 8, 2015
Just went out for meds and beer. When I exited the liquor store with my suds, some asshole over in the crowd of shoppers' vehicles hiding in his car in the parking lot blew his little, pathetic horn at me, three blasts. I stopped dead still in the middle of the peripheral street, looking for him, or them, but they are cunts. Total cunts. They, as I have previously stated, lack the balls to stalk me on foot, so they hide anonymously in their little cars. They are pathetic.
I stood there in the street for a full ten seconds, waiting on some pussy to show himself, but he hid from me. Just another cunt, working for twenty bucks and a six pack.
That is the way to do it. Show force, and the intent to use it.We always know they are there, but if they truly believe they will die if they show themselves, they only become little pinpricks. An occasional mosquito bite. Or pricks, as the case may be. They have become pathetic. Pitiful. They are devout, practicing cowards.
Utter slime.
I stood there in the street for a full ten seconds, waiting on some pussy to show himself, but he hid from me. Just another cunt, working for twenty bucks and a six pack.
That is the way to do it. Show force, and the intent to use it.We always know they are there, but if they truly believe they will die if they show themselves, they only become little pinpricks. An occasional mosquito bite. Or pricks, as the case may be. They have become pathetic. Pitiful. They are devout, practicing cowards.
Utter slime.
Friday, June 5, 2015
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Went to Walmart last night for beer and other necessities. The parking lot was almost empty at midnight. I usually shop at midnight or later to thin out the crowd. Makes stalkers easier to spot.
So when I left the store and entered the parking lot, there was a gray SUV parked almost opposite from my truck, lights on and engine running. I moved to my right and circled the vehicle, and it slowly departed when I got behind it. Likely stalkers, and I was ready to open fire immediately should any aggression on the occupants part have been displayed. I would have blown him out of his socks. But he fled, cowards that they are.
I have always lived for the rush. I have almost 1000 skydives, was a cave diver during the 60's before it became so sophisticated, smuggled weed out of Colombia during the 70's coming in under the radar, and flew aircraft all over the world, quite a bit into hot African war zones. It was never for the money. It was always for the rush. The money was a bonus.
So now, in my retirement, my rush comes from hunting stalkers. I could care less what happens to me. Death would be welcome. So I hunt the bastards, with malice aforethought. It is the only stimulation I get, so I suppose I should be grateful. They give me a reason to arm up and prepare each time I leave my home, and their pitiful lives hang in the balance. They also read this, so they know.
So when I left the store and entered the parking lot, there was a gray SUV parked almost opposite from my truck, lights on and engine running. I moved to my right and circled the vehicle, and it slowly departed when I got behind it. Likely stalkers, and I was ready to open fire immediately should any aggression on the occupants part have been displayed. I would have blown him out of his socks. But he fled, cowards that they are.
I have always lived for the rush. I have almost 1000 skydives, was a cave diver during the 60's before it became so sophisticated, smuggled weed out of Colombia during the 70's coming in under the radar, and flew aircraft all over the world, quite a bit into hot African war zones. It was never for the money. It was always for the rush. The money was a bonus.
So now, in my retirement, my rush comes from hunting stalkers. I could care less what happens to me. Death would be welcome. So I hunt the bastards, with malice aforethought. It is the only stimulation I get, so I suppose I should be grateful. They give me a reason to arm up and prepare each time I leave my home, and their pitiful lives hang in the balance. They also read this, so they know.
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